Marcus Farrell
by hyperpsychomaniac
Summary: One shot. An account of Marcus Farrell's rise to greatness... through his own eyes. Sometimes, a legend isn't all its cracked up to be.


**A/n: **Over the next couple of days, I'm doing a purge out of all my unfinished Skyland fic... finishing them as quickly as possible. This is the first one. I started this awhile ago, and completely forgot about it. After finding it again, I decided it really needed to be finished. Oddly enough, it's in first person, which I generally hate. Anyway, reviews are very much appreciated... please review. ;)

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I stole one ship.

That's how it all started. I didn't even intend to steal it in the first place. It had simply been a dare. Not to steal the ship I mean, but to climb aboard that Sphere vessel and jump the Brigs there. Just some harmless fun. Or at least so my friends and I thought at the time.

Of course, back then we didn't know the Sphere were so heartless. Perhaps we did, but never believed it. Either way, when Jacob and I got myself trapped on the S-19 and taken into the Sphere ship yards, it became clear to me they would not allow us to escape with our lives. That was, _if_ they caught us. We were foolish enough to think we could escape.

Jacob suggested we jump the Brigs. That was what we had intended to do after all. Back in the village, they had never done more than ask us to 'move along'. Even so, I hung back slightly. They were armed. I realised that here, in what must have been a top secret Sphere ship building facility, that they were ready to use deadly force. They did. They shot Jacob without even a warning. And I sat back and cowered in an air duct.

When they had left, just leaving Jacob's body lying there, I decided I needed to steal a ship. Any would do. I picked the closest to the S-19 I'd arrived in. As I stepped into the cockpit of the small vessel, I froze. There was a man in there. A Sphere scientist. He looked startled when I entered. Said I shouldn't be there, all the while his voice shaking. I was about as afraid of him as he was of me. I'd seen what the Sphere had just done to Jacob, and whilst this raised anger within me, more so it raised fear. I knew this guy could call all the might of the Sphere down upon me. Before I knew what I was doing I'd picked up a gun from the seat beside me. It must have belonged to the Sphere scientist. I only realised he was unarmed after I shot him.

It wasn't difficult to escape, once I'd gotten into that ship. I suppose they didn't expect anyone to know it was there. I simply flew it out as quickly as I could, not even worrying as I scraped its hull against the docking bay walls, I was that frightened.

I made it back to my other friends. They were upset about Jacob, but then one of them recognised the ship I had stolen as the prototype Hyperion. It was one of the Sphere's greatest projects at the time. And I had stolen it. I must have had to fight my way through at least a hundred Brigs to get it out, and thousands of S-19s. I tried to explain to them it hadn't been like that… far from it. I'm not sure they even heard.

We had to run from the Sphere, and they insisted on telling everyone we met how I had taken the Hyperion from an army of a thousand Sphere ships… simply because I had been dared. Though it was a tall tale, everyone seemed to believe them. I mean, look at me; I certainly had the stature of a man who could pull off such a feat. At least that's what they all said.

Eventually, I stopped arguing. And it didn't stop there. Though I joined the rebellion and led a good number of attacks against the Sphere, somehow, it seemed that other victories were attributed to my name. Victories I had not even been aware of, far less had a hand in. Of course, I had already learnt there was little point in arguing.

My partner, Mila, seemed to find it almost amusing. She knew some of these victories were not mine… and yet, I still lacked the courage to tell her that what these stories were really based on – my brazen theft of the Hyperion – was also a lie.

I let all those stories pass, and at some stage, I suppose I almost started to believe them myself. I'd get up in front of hundreds of rebels and give a riveting speech on how we would send the Sphere packing. Most of the time, we did, which of course only served to strengthen my name among the rebels.

That was me error. Though there were many. My error was to become arrogant, based on those lies. I could blame the lies and rumours on others, but my arrogance was all my own doing. And it was the rebellion's undoing.

Ronston was where it began. I had no inkling the end was near. I think the only man who realised we were in trouble was Christophe Cortes. I never could work out why he went over to the Sphere's side – whether he had really changed sides or it was all a ruse. Either way, I think he saw the end coming.

Three short months later I fled. Again, a coward. As the last shreds of the rebel fleet fell around me I was stripped down of all my arrogance and the lies could do nothing to strengthen the falling, burning ships around me. They no longer even had the power to strengthen the hearts of my men, far less my own. I fled in the Hyperion, most of the S22 squadrons hot on my tail. The radio blared with the sounds of distress of the dying fleet, men and women I once knew to be unshakable shouting out for help, some cutting out completely as their ships were destroyed.

I led most of those S22s away, perhaps the only brave thing I ever really did. Not, of course, that I had much choice. They would follow me anyway, coward or not. I lost them one by one, for I don't know how many hours. I lost track of time, too tired to really know what was going on. Somehow, I lost them. And then I thought of my young family – how I could never go back to them. I didn't deserve that, and they would be safer without me. The rebellion would be better off without me – if it even survived. I doubted it would. It was based on the lie of my life, and I don't think anyone would be foolhardy enough to trust something like that again.

The Sphere has won.

So I dump the Hyperion. A coward doesn't deserve a ship as sleek and fast as her. Perhaps, someone will find a better use for her. Perhaps she could be used for herding cattle.

As for me, I disappear. Skyland no longer has a use for me.


End file.
